Page 59 of Toni and Addie Go Viral

Addie

The next few weeks were chaotic. Addie ignored social media, ignored her email, ignored her phone. She had to set her phone to only allow Favorites, and everyone else was on Do Not Disturb.

Prioritize my own well-being.

By the end of the month, she felt together enough to face her family.

Still, Addie had outright lied to her parents that she couldn’t be there until Thanksgiving evening.

“Leftovers and pie is perfect,” she’d told them.

Eric was driving up north with her, and honestly, a part of Addie was looking forward to the long drive and a weekend off.

Toni had finally stopped calling and texting. She had sent an email that basically asked Addie to come to DC for dinner. Any other time the last year, Addie would’ve done so with hope in her heart and a skip in her step. This time, she’d replied with, “I love you, so no.”

To that, Toni hadn’t replied at all.

I don’t want crumbs.

That was the crux of it. She had a life here, her bestie, her parents, a career, and she wasn’t ignoring it for a few crumbs and lies.

Toni wanted her to either pretend not to be in love or lie or who knew.

Addie wasn’t going to pretend, and Toni ought to know better than to ask it—even inadvertently.

For someone that lectured, literally lectured at conferences, about authenticity, she was being a hypocrite.

Today, Addie was on set. Eric had rented a car and was going to meet her here for the drive north.

The actual drive to visit family was probably the best part.

If they left late enough, they could make it in under eight hours, traffic permitting.

If not? They’d grab a hotel and drive tomorrow when everyone else was at wherever they were having their family meals.

There were other people still at the studio.

A career in film or television meant long hours.

Marcela was working late, and Addie had just finished up talking to costume.

But for reason of sheer foolishness, Addie was walking around a Victorian manor that had been designed based on the book created by the woman she loved.

A book with my name in it.

A sequel I inspired.

A scene in New Orleans.

How do I let her go?

Addie heard footsteps and looked behind her. “Marcela? Hello…?”

At first no one replied, but then she heard the steps come closer, heavy, shuffling slightly. Addie wasn’t sure that speaking again was wise. She slipped off her shoes so she wouldn’t make a sound, and then she backed up slowly until she was in the sitting room.

Maybe she was overreacting, but when no one replied to her, she assumed there was a reason. If it had been Marcela or security or someone on staff, or if Eric was early, they would have replied.

Addie crouched down behind a settee, brushing away the fleeting thought of another Victorian sofa, that one with a surly Oscar Wilde under it. Thinking about Toni wasn’t helpful. Thinking about much else wasn’t helpful. Not right now.

When she saw the shadow of a man on set, she bit back the fear that Philip was here, drunk and angry again. He had showed up at her hotel room. He had been hostile on set. He had leaked photos and lies about her.

Maybe it’s Eric, early.

Maybe it’s the new security guard or—

“I know you’re here, Adelaine. ” Philip sounded a few steps past drunk, and as he stalked around the set, she could see the shadow of a bottle in his hand.

Drunk. Angry. Alone.

She just had to hope that he wouldn’t see her or find her.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, you venomous bitch.” He slurred his singsonging, but it didn’t make him less frightening.

Maybe he’ll pass out.

Please let him pass out or leave!

“Do you know what I just heard?” Philip continued as if they were having a conversation.

“My fucking role was cut. I’m gone before the whole season even airs.

We filmed all the scenes I was going to still be in.

I guess my character is being sent off on some colonialist boat or war where I’ll die.

” He laughed harshly. “Whatever solution that lesbo bitch likes best.”

Addie flinched both at his words and the virulent hate in his tone.

“But guess what?” He leaned over the sofa to stare down at her. “I’ll land on my feet. Nothing you can do will ruin me.”

“Philip…” Addie straightened and backed away from him.

He reeked of liquor and sweat, and any sympathy she might have felt faded as he stalked toward her.

Loudly, she called out, “Is anyone here? Hello!”

“‘Is anyone here?’” he mimicked. He reached out to grab her, and she swerved, trying to put the settee between them. “You could’ve told me she was on the g’damned phone that night. I’m not a bad guy. I’m actually nice, Addie. I’m like Colin. Misunderstood.”

“Then stop saying rude things and walk away right now,” Addie countered, voice shaky.

“Let me make it up to you, and we can be friends.” Philip lurched over the sofa to grab her. “We can be the great love story. Costars date all the time. Leave her. Date me. I can pretend to like you.…”

“No!”

She hit her head as the sofa fell on her, and then something jabbed her in the back of her shoulder as she fell.

Addie screamed. The sound was muffled by Philip shoving his hand over her mouth.

He was leaning down, body pressing the sofa onto her.

The weight was forcing whatever jabbed her shoulder deeper into the skin.

Suddenly, Philip stopped, eyes wide, expression horrified. He backed up, all the while staring at her with his mouth open like he was saying something.

Then he dropped the bottle. It rolled over the settee and spilled cool liquid all over Addie. The scent of alcohol was harsh, and her shoulder burned as the liquid hit her.

That doesn’t make sense.

Why would liquor burn my arm?

“Damn,” Philip breathed. He turned and ran, stumbling into the darkness.

Addie was pinned, or maybe it was whatever she’d landed on, but her shoulder was throbbing. She fumbled at her hip for her phone. Her arm screaming in objection, she lifted it up. She couldn’t get her arm to move right, though, so she had to lift her head and squint.

She tried to jab Favorites and call Eric, but when she saw Toni’s name, she called her instead.